


How Things Are Maintained

by lizznotliz



Series: How Things Are Built [2]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Asexual Character, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-18
Updated: 2016-11-18
Packaged: 2018-08-31 15:45:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8584246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizznotliz/pseuds/lizznotliz
Summary: They learn what works for them. What's safe.





	

They learn what works for them.

What's safe.

Alex's hands are safe. She likes it when Maggie threads their fingers together and drags her down the street toward the sushi place she found last weekend while she was working a case. She likes it when they hold hands on the couch while they're watching a movie just because they can, palms pressed together. She likes it when Maggie plays with her fingers because she's bored while Alex fields phone calls from the DEO.

Alex's face is safe, too. She likes it when Maggie presses her nose against Alex's cheekbone when they pause during a makeout session. She likes the way Maggie's hands cup her cheeks when they kiss, when she can feel the calluses on Maggie's trigger finger against her skin. She likes the teasing way Maggie tugs gently on her ear when she thinks Alex has spaced out while they're talking.

Alex's back is off limits. The skin at her waist, her stomach. If it's covered, it stays that way and Maggie makes sure to keep her hands on Alex's shirt. She wrinkles the fabric across Alex's abdomen, holding on tight so she doesn't get tempted to stray, and when she apologizes for it Alex kisses her again. All the wrinkles mean that Maggie respects her. She doesn't mind ironing for that.

Alex's neck depends on the situation. If they're kissing, and Maggie's hands slide to the back of her neck, that's okay. In that context it feels grounding, feels like Maggie is really _in this_. But when they're on the couch, Maggie is careful not to just sling her arm against the back cushion and lay her hand against Alex's neck. It doesn't feel grounding, then, they figure out: it's cloying and uncomfortable and it makes Alex twitch her head all night trying to get rid of the phantom fingerprints even after Maggie moves away.

Playing footsie is fine, so long as at least one of them is wearing socks. Cuddling on the couch is definitely okay, though Alex will sometimes throw on a sweatshirt first. The first time Maggie spends the night, she lets Alex set the tone: whoever is the big spoon keeps their hands wrapped around ribs and it's close enough and safe enough that everyone is happy.

Alex apologizes, because that's what Alex does, and Maggie wonders what happened to her that made her think she didn't deserve to be happy. Not just happy in a general sense, but her own personal brand of happiness. She wonders how many guys she had to go through - how many guys touched her when she didn't want to be touched - to get to where she is right now. When Alex apologizes, Maggie gets mad; not at Alex, but at the world, mostly, because Alex deserves it, deserves to be happy and to be respected. She brings a coffee can to Alex's apartment and makes her put a dollar in it every time she whispers _sorry_ in Maggie's ear after a makeout session ends because Maggie felt like she was getting carried away and straying to close to the line they've drawn. In less than a week, there's enough money in the can to go out for ice cream.

Maggie leans across the table with a napkin to wipe away the ice cream that's dripped on Alex's chin. "I like this," she says simply.

"Your ice cream?"

"Us," Maggie clarifies. "What we have. I don't-- I don't want you to feel like it's less to me because we have different parameters than my previous relationships. You are important to me. Your happiness, your comfort is important to me."

Alex gets that little crease between her eyes that Maggie has learned means that she's trying not to cry. She lets Alex have a minute, watches her stir her ice cream into a soupy mess while she gets herself together again.

"I like us," Maggie repeats finally. "I'm just as happy as you with what we are, how we are. Please believe that."

"Promise?" Alex's voice is so very, very small and Maggie wishes they were back at her apartment and not in a diner because all she wants to do is wrap Alex up in her dad's old sweatshirt and hug her.

But they're in public and she knows that's not what Alex needs: "Christ, Danvers, yes: I promise. I like you for more than your hot bod, y'know?"

Alex laughs. Maggie likes that most of all.


End file.
